‘Who was he?’ Luke demanded.
‘He was my Great-Aunt Hypatia’s grandson, the heir of Ide,’ a voice said from the doorway. ‘Her favourite.’
Luke’s entire body went cold. Terror tingled in his fingertips like frostbite. He’d been so intent on Dog’s narration he hadn’t heard anyone approach.
Silyen Jardine walked over to the pen, then flapped out the tails of his riding jacket and sat down on the concrete floor. Luke scrambled backwards. The Equal didn’t seem to notice – or didn’t care, if he did.
‘Do carry on,’ he said. ‘I’m sure Luke’s desperate to know what happens next.’
‘Next,’ Dog said, ‘my wife – hanged herself.’
He fixed Luke with eyes that were bright with tears and shone with madness.
‘She was tiny but – heavy with – the baby. Nearly due. I found her. Neck snapped. Both dead. The next bit – was easy. I was a soldier – before. Before I was – a dog. I killed – him first. Then – his wife. Then – his children.’
The bottom dropped out of Luke’s stomach. Had he heard that last bit right? Please let him not have heard it right.
‘Children?’ he whispered to the man in the pen.
‘Three of them,’ said Silyen Jardine. ‘All under ten. And it gets worse, because we’re not talking a nice soft pillow over their faces.
‘You’ve heard of Black Billy’s Revolt, haven’t you, Luke? The blacksmith who defied his masters? They made him forge the instruments of his own torture and killed him with them. Well, that all happened long ago at Ide, but my dear relatives there always kept those tools. A little memento. Let’s say our resourceful canine friend found a new use for them. Isn’t that so?’
Dog looked at Silyen for a long time.
‘Yes,’ he rasped. ‘Worked well. Wish I – still had them.’
Luke thought he was going to puke.
This world was sicker and more rotten than he’d imagined. Who could have thought he’d be nostalgic for the days when Kessler was beating him black and blue on the storeroom floor? There was nothing like a bit of honest thuggery.
‘Anyway,’ the Equal said, ‘don’t let me interrupt. I doubt you were discussing a joint wedding gift for my brother and his bride. Escape plans, maybe?’
‘No,’ said Luke. ‘I was just bringing him medicine.’
‘Because the Dog,’ Silyen continued, bizarrely conversational, ‘and you, Luke – and all our slaves – are bound to this estate. None of you can hurt us, or leave us. Not without my permission. In a nice bit of irony, Father had me devise the binding soon after the events at Ide, to ensure nothing like it could happen here.’
‘I’m not helping him escape,’ Luke said. He felt somehow, furiously, that Dog had made a fool of him. ‘He’s a child-killer. I thought he was a victim, but I was wrong.’
‘That’s rather narrow-minded of you, Luke.’ Silyen Jardine got to his feet, brushing down his jeans. ‘Aren’t you all victims? But have it your way.’
The Equal looked at Dog.
‘Luckily some of us keep our promises. I’ll wake the gate at 3 a.m., like I said. Wait for me in Kyngrove Hanger, the high beech wood.’
Silyen Jardine reached down to the padlock that secured the cage and plucked it off. No key. No fuss. The Equal opened his fingers and a dozen broken bits that were once a padlock tinkled as they hit the floor. He nodded at Dog, then walked out of the kennel.
Luke nearly keeled over with relief that the nightmarish conversation was finished. He leaned against the adjacent pen, keeping a wary eye open.
‘Silyen Jardine promised to help you escape? Why? You can’t seriously believe him. It’s a trap. It must be.’
Dog shrugged.
‘Possibly. But what trap – could get me anywhere – worse than this? As for – why. Perhaps to spite – his great-aunt. Perhaps – for trouble. Perhaps just – because he can.’
‘I’m so sorry for what happened to your wife,’ Luke said awkwardly. He stood. Dog made no move to quit the cage, which was a small mercy. ‘But that doesn’t excuse what you did. I really did want to help you, before I knew. Anyway, it’s not like you need me now. Good luck getting out.’
He hoped his voice didn’t betray exactly how unlikely he thought that was. Dog stared.
‘You have to – hate them,’ the man grated out. ‘To beat them.’
‘I don’t hate them enough to kill children,’ Luke said, with no hesitation.
‘Then you don’t hate them – enough.’
Luke didn’t have an answer for that. To the accompaniment of Dog’s hoarse laughter, he ducked through the doorway and didn’t look back.
He had time to shower at the cottage – he felt soiled in every way by the conversation at the kennels. Then Luke presented himself at the servants’ entrance of Kyneston to begin his evening shift.
He badly wanted to be left alone to sort through whatever had just happened. Maybe they’d give him a tray full of ready-poured glasses, so he could stand in a corner like a human drinks trolley.